I have loved reading since a child. I will always remember traveling from Maryland to Kentucky the Christmas break after I first learned how to read. I remember sitting in the passenger seat of the red and silver Chevy Conversion Van. While my mom and brother slept, Dad in the drivers seat- snow falling late at night… I read every sign aloud as we traveled closer and closer to “home.” Reading became my first hobby and my first escape. I read constantly. My dad would criticize what I was reading, saying it was junk…but I read and read… and always tested high in my reading skills.
We moved to Texas and in middle school I was able to take a creative writing class. I attended Garner Middle School in San Antonio. I will always remember Ms. Bankhead my creative writing teacher. I was in 8th grade and became close friends with Tammy Steadman. Tammy was also in my creative writing class. I still have memorized my first attempt at poetry, it was a Christmas Poem …Creative Writing class was my favorite and it allowed me the opportunity to discover the pleasures of writing. During 8th grade one of my very best friends Tracy McCarroll committed suicide. This was my first real experience with death. I will never forget Tracy…she was only 15. The school provided counselors but my greatest therapy was in creative writing class with Ms. Bankhead and Tammy. It seems a lifetime ago…the experience changed my life and I will be forever grateful for the lessons Tracy’s life and death taught me. She will forever be with me…
I started highschool in San Antonio, halfway through my freshman year I moved to Louisville, Kentucky. It was quite a change. In Texas there were 1200 freshman at the high school I attended. In Louisville there were about 200 or so. I was blessed to have the best English teacher and one of the most influential people in my life. I adored Ms. Morrison and she seemed to take an interest in me as well. I always loved school, the only thing I ever remember loving and though I did not apply myself and did not do as well as I should have… I loved school. Ms. Morrison believed in me and encouraged me..she believed in me so much that she recommended I take honors English. We had an assignment to read as many books as we could in a certain time period and we would write and test on what we read…. I cannot remember how many books I read and tested on, but it was probably 20- far ahead of any other student in the class. I will never forget asking Ms. Morrison about my writing and the words she said. “Erika, not everyone can write- sometimes your grammar needs work but that is what editors are for….” I am summarizing and this was years ago..but that bit of hope I will never forget. Actually to be completely honest…in some ways Ms. Morrison probably saved my life…She may never know the impact she has had on my life..but I will always remember her and value the lessons she taught me and the hope she gave me. I struggled as a child and young adult just to make it through the day alive and looking forward to Ms. Morrisons class helped. I was fortunate and bonded with many teachers and staff at Western High School. It was so much different than my experiences in Texas where classes were large and tests were important and it seemed students were just a number…perhaps there is an error in my perceptions and memories..it was different in Louisville- teachers actually expressed an interest in students and it was much more personal. I truly believe that if I hadn’t moved to Louisville and had such a wonderful experience at school, that I wouldn’t have made it to adulthood. It seems so long ago and I was such a different person..much has happened then and since..I treasure that time and my experiences and the bonds that I made that remain with me.
Through the years I have always found that writing is therapeutic. I am able to best communicate through the words I put on paper…and I am better able to work through things when I finally write about them. So why do I avoid writing? It usually takes an extreme amount of pain for me to finally express myself on paper. As the years have passed and I have written less and less..my writing skills have diminished and my grammar skills have gotten worse. Writing is my truest form of expressing the real me and I have avoided it until the pain is so great that there seems no other outlet. I want to discover the real me and work again on my writing skills. Over the years I have saved very little of what I have written..perhaps I will post the few bits that I have and can find. It is by writing that I discover my real self and that I allow others the opportunity to “see me.” This will take work- commitment and dedication. I feel very blocked and so guarded that I don’t even allow myself the chance to see, express or experience the real me. I think in addition to my daily meditations that I will start journaling. It has proved helpful in the past and perhaps it will help me improve my skills.
